Tutor
by Calkat
Summary: YasuxMaixNaru Mai needs a tutor. And frankly, Naru scares her, so she turns to S.P.R.'s only non-psychic on retainer--Osamu Yasuhara. Sure he's brilliant--and demented, but he'll do. So why is Ayako looking at her funny? And why does Naru want Onigiri?
1. The Downfalls of Haunted Onigiri

**Tutor**

Chapter 1: The Downfalls of Haunted Onigiri

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3.27.10

* * *

_"That's a lovely trash can you have there."_

* * *

The smell of the coffee shop late at night failed to be calming to say the least. Bitter espresso wafted among sugar-filled syrups scents, doing nothing for the zombie feeling she was already experiencing. She had three midterms in two weeks, two of which composed 30% percent of her grade each. Her teachers called them tests, a thinly veiled disguise for what she called them—torture.

Mai slid her gaze covertly to her cell phone and clicked a button as quietly as possible on the side to light up the front LCD screen. 9:38 p.m. blared brightly back at her, making her once-sour mood slip further south. She had been at this for four hours and her brain was taking on the consistency of sludge. In a pale tan paper cup, sat two-hour stale and cold coffee. She briefly paused, thinking about why she needed the caffeine, but would have been much better off without the nasty taste. The reflection in the once-dark brown coffee – that she had paled to oblivion with cream – grimaced back at her before she wrapped her fingers around the chilled cup. Quickly, she took a begrudging sip, knowing it would be disgusting, but unable to deny the need for quick energy.

Mai scowled at the bitter beverage and silently cursed Yasuhara because this adventure into a different culture was his idea. Mai would take tea any day over nasty coffee. She took another sip, however, when she realized she was falling asleep when attempting to study.

The tile floor clicked amiably against her bouncing foot. The chair cradling her back was ramrod straight, allowing for no comfortable position – probably so that people like her didn't linger for hours on end in the coffee shop blocking customers and productivity, which she, of course, was doing. The chairs around the café were a deep maroon set against the pale blue tables and ash gray floors. The walls matched the chairs, more red than maroon though. No more than 12 people were in the shop and she was the only one with a companion. At this point, she considered him a rather annoying companion – the companion known as Yasuhara. But that was probably just the coffee speaking. Or perhaps, the endless hours in the coffee shop.

Yasuhara was actually one of the nicest – yet oddest – men she knew, which was unusual in itself considering that he was the most spiritually mundane among her group of friends. Being the weirdest among mikos, monks, diviners and various psychics was something to be said, if not be wary of.

Across the table Yasuhara was currently embroiled in critiquing her latest work assessing of Edo period architecture and its influence in the current world. She couldn't remember why she'd ever wanted to take an ancient architectural class. Grudgingly, she admitted to herself that it probably had something to do with Naru's insistence that building structure was crucial to ghost hunting and how he spent hour upon hour studying the building and surrounding area.

So yeah, maybe it had something to do with that, but she'd never tell him that she took that class, let alone why. Like he needed anymore power over her. He did just fine on his own where she was concerned. She suppressed rising memories of "Mai, set the cameras up." "Mai, temperature readings, go." Sometimes he would even switch it up and add her proper title at the end of the sentence as in, "Tea, Mai!" At least, it provided a small variety.

Hence, why Yasuhara was her tutor now. Sure, Naru was useful in nearly every aspect of knowledge, but he would just degrade her and distract her, however unintentionally, from her work. It probably had something to do with his long, dark eyelashes that put hers to shame, the way he would often glance up at her through them (even if the look was in disdain because she had watered the fake plants in the office—_who buys fake plants!_). Maybe it was the lazy fall of hair that fell over his dark eyes, that she thought desperately needed a hair cut, but she couldn't bear him doing so, because the lazy, uneven, badly designed cut was just so _Naru. _ Outside of Shibuya Psychic Research, she was actually a rather competent individual. She made rent payments on time, handled all of her utility bills, and was even making payments on one of those little Vespas in her favorite midnight blue, which was about the only thing she could afford on her budget. She'd desperately needed the transport, even with how hard it was on her fluctuating income.

Things were better when Naru decided to take a case. All though, she wished he would take more cases a bit more often, so that she wouldn't have to dip into her savings so often, but she would never ask him to do so for her benefit. That was why she had another job at Mayahama's Electric Warehouse three days a week where she handled calls regarding purchases. If she wanted, she could go get another job, a full-time one that wouldn't require quite so much travel, nowhere near as much stress and definitely no unrelated heartache. She was suffering here for an entirely different reason; therefore, she would never beg him to do anything he didn't want to himself. It was just too selfish to her.

And that was how she had landed with Yasuhara as her tutor at from 5:30 until 10:00. It was her only free time other than the weekends, but with the midterms upcoming, she needed all the time that she had. Mai could handle subjects that she had some liking for, but for others that that held no interest…she often found it hard to work so hard for things she didn't care about (which probably also had something to do why she hated her other part-time job.)

"…really, Mai, this is terrible. How can you expect to compare post-modern architecture –ugly square buildings, all steel and cement towering into the sky – to the intricacies of balancing the beauty and pragmatism in 14th century wooden magnificence. In a word, it's ghastly."

Ghastly. That was a word she'd never heard to describe her writing. She'd add that to the growing list of adjectives Yasuhara tried to _gently_ – a word to be used sparingly – evaluate her work with.

She couldn't wait to return the favor on their next paranormal research case. Even though he was steadily catching her in terms of knowledge – and would most likely surpass her thanks to his disgusting dedication to reading books of spook-like nature – she was still a little bit better in that area. That little bit gave her an ample amount of self-confidence to take a beating in Yasuhara's arena, studying. Low and behold, she was beaten to a blood pulp, and somehow was still stumbling on her feet.

Yasuhara looked back down to the paper and adjusted his glasses a few times the closer he tried to get to her paper, as if disbelieving what she wrote.

Mai propped her chin on the back of her hand, sighing wearily. She was god-awful at architecture and had trouble comprehending what was considered classically beautiful and modernly beautiful. All of the old structures were pretty to her, but some were asymmetrical and she couldn't understand how that impacted the aesthetic appeal and value as her professor asserted.

A bead of sweat trickled down her spine, causing Mai to straighten sharply. Her back and hands were clammy, even though outside the temperature was around four degrees Celsius outside. Her face fell and she rolled her eyes. Surely, the back of her shirt was already damp and spotted with sweat marks. Great, just great. She normally waited to wear a shirt twice before she watched it and now she would have to throw it in the wash with the rest of her laundry. Outside, the sky was dark and wet lines started to show up on the window, slowly at first and then faster.

It was starting to rain and the light was reflecting off the streaks of water. Perfect to drive home in. She was going to get soaked by the rain, but she was going to be _drenched _by the cars passing her. Maybe she should have thought out that Vespa a bit more…

"This last part about the structures from the Chinese Tang Dynasty as influential of later Japanese building is much more on point."

Mai grinned and nudged him. "See? I'm getting better. All of this information is slowly seeping into here. My brain is like a sponge!"

"Porous?" he asked with contrived discomfort.

Mai swatted at him. "Absorbing knowledge—jeez!"

His own smirk faded when he reevaluated her paper. "But this first part needs heavy revision. I'd suggest studying around the 13th century. The way they surveyed locations by the height of the sun and the angle of the shadows. Pretty impressive stuff, actually. That's where you fall short of total comprehension. The rest is passable."

Mai folded her lips into a line, gave a thumbs-up and started to pack her things. "Good enough for now. Can we close up for the night? I'm beat and need to get some rest in before my early start. Are you working tomorrow?"

Yasuhara appraised her. "Working…yes? In the office, no. Lin asked me to gather some information on a local hostel to see if we should take a case or not. I take it, you're in the office."

Mai nodded, pulled the zipper on her backpack to close it while she planned out her schedule for tomorrow in her head.

"What about Naru?"

"What about him?" Mai asked too quickly.

He gave her an odd look. "Is he going to be in the office tomorrow?"

"How would I know?"

Yasuhara's eyebrow arched higher. "I'm surprised you haven't called into the office to check on him. You used to be pretty diligent about that."

Mai scratched her nose, then dug into her backpack to search for her keys to distract herself. When she found them, she dangled them winningly off the end of her fingers, only to notice that Yasuhara was still waiting for an answer to a question he hadn't really asked.

"What?" she asked a little maliciously.

His serious look didn't wither as she'd expected under her wrath. "You know what I mean."

"I think you overestimate my capacity to comprehend your meaning." She got up to throw away that nasty coffee. Over her shoulder she added, "Aren't you and Naru always saying that I'm a brick short of a wall anyway?"

"We're teasing—" She froze him with a lifted eyebrow. "—Well, _I'm_ teasing, maybe Naru isn't…" He looked oddly uncomfortable. "Anyway," he rebounded quickly, and looked around the shop like he was studying the people inside. "Are you going to be needing a ride back to your place?"

Mai's face lifted with barely restrained pride. "Nope, I'm going to be just fine. See that dark blue spot out there?" She pointed. "That's mine."

He hesitated, then turned to give her a half-smile. "That's a lovely trash can you have there."

"The Vespa," she hissed.

"Ah," he said in mock-appreciation, before standing to join her. "It's going to be a wet ride home," he pointed out. The steady drip of rain had quickly upgraded to torrential downpour.

She merely jingled her keys as an answer, adding, "It'll be refreshing."

"And cold-inducing."

"It helps me clear my mind, almost like meditating."

"Yeah, nothing like a layer of anti-freeze and motor oil to pamper the skin with. Keeps it young and firm. See? No wrinkles, just malignant cancer."

"Shut up."

Yasuhara held out her coat, helped her slide her arms into it, then settled it onto her shoulders. The door to the coffee shop chimed noisily as they walked through the sensor.

Mai pulled her hood up, but kept a grasp on the edges to pull it closer around her face. It barely covered the crown of her head, but it was also five years old, worn back when she'd been three-and-a-half inches shorter and five kilograms lighter.

Yasuhara flipped his own hood, which fell nearly to his eyes.

The pocket at her hip started to vibrate, probably her phone. She fished it out, covered it with one hand to protect it from the rain and cradled it with the other while trying to read the message.

"Last chance," he offered, jingling his own set of keys. "We can load your Vespa in the back."

Mai obviously hadn't heard, as she stared at her phone, sighed half-heartedly, and rolled her eyes. "Sorry." She clicked the phone closed sharply and slipped it into her backpack. "What were you saying?"

He glanced down at her. "Forget it, what was that about?"

"Oh, you know, fourth date this semester that has been botched."

Yasuhara quirked an eyebrow. "And?"

"He cancelled on me," she shrugged with nonchalance.

"You don't sound too disappointed."

Her perky response baffled him. "I'm not, actually. I'm ecstatic that he cancelled. Regular people can be so…boring to me now." Flushing and realizing her mistake, she covered with, "except you, of course, Yasuhara."

He grinned back broadly. "My ego's far too sturdy a thing to let that bother me. You supernatural girls are far too high maintenance for me. Exorcise this, kekkai that. It gets old quickly," he complained, feigning impatience.

She tucked her hair back in her hood, primping. "I'd rather talk about the interesting things. The _Exciting_ things: possession, ghosts, demons, shinigami, zombies, wall-writing, _walking through walls_, creatures of the night, _onigiri_."

"Onigiri?"

"Onigiri, though I prefer my onigiri haunted. That way I can eat it and defeat it at the same time."

"Ah, you are indeed a strange one, Taniyama-san. Next to that, I can't imagine how's it's possible for a mundane man to measure up to that."

Something occurred to Mai. "How come you never call me by my first name? Everyone else does."

"Hm. I've never put much thought into. In my family, we call everyone outside our immediate relatives by their surname." He shrugged. "Guess I'm just accustomed to it. You never call me by my name."

"That was how you introduced yourself. Yasuhara just suits you too well now."

"Fine by me."

"Well, when you are comfortable…" she began.

"When I'm comfortable, I'll try it out," he agreed, but segued rapidly, as if it had been bothering him the whole time. "You know, I can't understand why any date would cancel on you. Any regular boy should be honored that you had spoken with him. Maybe your boisterous attitude scared him away. Bou-san did say you should try being more docile." The last practically dripped sarcasm.

Mai sighed at how he sabotaged the serious sentiment with the latter jabbing statements.

Thinking quickly, Mai took a step closer to him, batting her eyelashes like she'd seen Ayako do so many times before, though with exponentially less effectiveness.

"Are you hitting on me, Yasuhara-kun?" she asked charmingly. She placed one hand on his arm, tilted her head to the side, displaying practiced innocence. A little too well, he conceded.

"With love and patience, nothing is impossible. So it may be very possible," he joked right back.

"Did you just quote at me? And that didn't make sense."

"Ah, so you recognized it," he said, diverting her from her last thought. He pinched his chin between his forefinger and thumb, before raising one eyebrow jokingly. "I could've quoted Kobayashi Issa, but his love haiku is more about a girl eating rice cakes, if you would believe it. Now that I think about it, that would have been more appropriate given this girl and her haunted onigiri…," he trailed off playfully.

Mai shoved his arm playfully and rolled her eyes. "I'm not Bou-san, go pull someone else's leg. Mine are long enough."

"Sure, short-stuff." Yasuhara grinned widely, then reached over and pulled her into a one-armed hug. "I especially like you for that."

"For what?" she asked coyly, ducking her head from under his grasp.

"You see right through people, more so than most. For someone so hardheaded, you can be scarily perceptive." Mai pulled a face and shoved him away harder this time.

"I'll take it as the compliment you meant it not to be."

She stepped into a puddle, splashing ice-cold water into her socks, soaking right to the skin and making her yelp. Mai twisted and danced around at the cold sensation, deciding it was time to get to her Vespa and make her cold, rain-filled trip home.

She gestured to her Vespa, tucked her hands under her arms. He nodded and said a soft farewell.

"Thanks for your help tonight."

"No problem. Be careful," he said as headed in the opposite direction for his car.

As Mai measured the traffic and prepared to dodge the cars, she yelled back at his retreating

form. "Maybe one day a nice, regular man will ask me out."

"Maybe I will," he called, taking the girl aback.

Mai's mouth hung open, catching raindrops while she tried to figure out what he meant by that. He had meant _actually_ _asking her out_, right?

That hadn't been what she had meant in any manner, but...the idea didn't stop her chest from warmly pleasantly, or a smile from curling her lips, keeping her a tiny bit warmer all the frigid way home.

* * *

_Next Chapter: The Law of Constants_


	2. The Law of Constants

**Tutor**

_Chapter 2: The Law of Constants_

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4.9.10

* * *

The next morning, Mai's tea tasted bitterly like rust and copper. It had spent too much time steeping due to prolonged stares out the window and odd moments of distraction in reorganizing files that were already meticulously put together. She'd probably hear all about it later, when Naru decided to poke his head out of his office instead of playing hermit all day.

Around 10:30, Mai finally ran out of tasks to do. She'd dusted, washed dishes, politely deterred two middle school students (who had most likely been dared by their friends to come here), tried to vacuum (before Lin had asked her to stop as it was breaking his focus; on what, Mai would have liked to know since they hadn't had a case in nearly two moths); she had even researched possible poltergeist and possession cases on the internet, none of which seemed feasible, or worthy to bring to Naru's critical attention.

At the thought of his name, Mai glanced at the door, staring at the bronze plaque with a green hue of age that read CEO. Unpolished and grimy, it was the only thing that didn't fit in with Naru's immaculate office, as it stood out like a mule trying to pass for a stallion. Besides, he wasn't a CEO, he was the president, though in name only. His parents could pull the plug at any second, something Mai reminded herself of when he was feeling high and mighty.

The office life as a glorified secretary wasn't nearly as glamorous as she had once thought. It consisted mostly of stacking papers, paper cuts, filing away referrals, and interviewing potential clients that ninety percent of the time were rejected by Naru. Clients that easily weasled their way into her heart with their (so-called) heartfelt pleas. Naru had once said that she could tell friend from foe, but she questioned this thought. To her, it merely meant that she was merely human, susceptible to wanting to help another out in a crisis like that of a haunted house.

After dozens upon dozens of refusals, Mai had started referring people to other companies who didn't have such stringent requirements, (or such high prices) that would be more likely to take their cases. Naru had caught her slipping a client a paper on the way out one time and had ripped it from her fingers.

"_It's one thing to waste my time for a consult. Don't waste anyone else's just because you think I'm being shortsighted or rude. I make these decisions based on whether or not they are qualify as a veritable supernatural case. Don't undermine me again." _

For Naru, it wasn't a particularly vicious or abusive speech. He had done much worse on numerous occasions, though at the time, Mai was hard pressed to think of another occasion... In response, Mai had thrown the paper in his face and walked out the door, feet flying fast across the carpet, not being able to get out fast enough. She had never been so embarrassed, so indignant about being scolded about what she thought was the right thing. Naru often turned down cases that even Lin thought were worthwhile.

She'd learned a couple useful things from the experience. One, Naru didn't like subversive politics and two, she was better off not handing out any more helpful referrals.

So now she just emailed them.

Naru's door swung open, the man as tempered and placid as ever, dressed in black as per usual and with a measured pace in his step. His dark bangs were stuck and splayed across his forehead, the heat of the enclosed office was most likely the culprit. Mai was happy to see that even Naru had to sweat sometimes.

He sauntered to the sink and tipped his mug—which she hadn't noticed in his hand—into the sink. Admittedly, she had been too distracted by the way he'd walked with a barely noticeable swing in his hips that had her mesmerized like a metronome. It wasn't that it was sexual; it was the confidence he had in everything he did that Mai envied. And maybe, it was a little on the side of sensual too.

Making a show of it, he looked inside the cup, wrinkled his nose and swiped a finger around the rim, coating his finger in saturated tealeaves. Sometimes Mai wondered at his manic tea obsession. Maybe it was an English thing…

He set the cup on the dirty rack, browsed the mailbox as the inflow of mail was too small to bother separating, let alone buy cubbies for and then returned to his office – never once bothering to look as his assistant. He hadn't uttered a word, but Mai knew that was Naru's version of a passive insult, one he was particularly adept at.

Mai couldn't even work up the energy to be angry. "I hope it gives you indigestion," she crooned quietly.

"Hope what gives who indigestion?"

Mai already had the talent for out-of-body experiences, but she nearly flew into the astral plane when the voice unexpectedly startled her. Twisting in her seat, she stretched awkwardly to see Ayako coming through the door, hips swinging, heels clacking noisily against the hollowed wooden floor.

"Just from a book I was reading. Grouchy old man, two young kids playing a trick on him…not particularly exciting." Ayako curled a lip in disinterest.

Mai ran her eyes up and down the miko's outfit none too covertly. She was clothed in a knee length skirt restricting her to smaller, clipped steps and a short sleeved blue halter framing nice shoulders and a smooth tan. "Nice weather for ducks, eh?" Mai asked, referring to the lasting storm.

Ayako scowled faintly. "It was sunny and humid where I came from."

Mai grimaced at the quick and caustic response. "I'm sure it was. What can I do for you today? Or should I just grab Naru?"

The elder miko waved dismissively. "You'll do." Ayako sat gingerly on the couch, reminding Mai of on old person with a crick in the knee. "Do you have a file on an Omaru Tanshou?"

The cold metal of the cabinet creaked under the weight of the files when Mai pulled the appropriate drawer open. She flipped through it quickly, as the cases actually taken was the smallest cabinet in the room. "Nothing."

"Check in the consultation cabinet. I'm fairly sure this a case that Naru wouldn't have taken."

Mai offered a supportive smile. "There's no doubt you aren't right. And an understatement. We both know he rarely takes any cases," Mai teased. "O'hara, Okapi, Ouji, oops too far. Aha, Omaru. Here." She handed down the file to Ayako.

Mai slipped her sandals off and sat on the couch next to Ayako, tucking her feet underneath her. She peeked over the miko's shoulder to see what the case had been about.

Rapping noises, unnatural light coming from the walls, ghostly figures. All common signs of poltergeist. All were also easy to replicate. "Sounds more like a rave than a ghost case, huh?" Mai joked.

Ayako's eyes gleamed with the beginnings of a smile. Her eyes flicked to Mai, acknowledging her wit and then returned to the file. Her sigh sounded weighty and leery.

"Except now, he's claiming that a ghost was in the bed with him in the shape of his wife and that a path of blood, footprints and all, travel from under his back porch and into the shower. The pictures he sent of the handprints smudging the wall and the dead crows were pretty disturbing."

"Thinking of taking it?"

Ayako looked pensive, one finger tapping to her temple. "Probably. It can't hurt to help the poor old man out. I mean if its haunted, I can help, and if he's just lonely and looking for attention, I'm pretty good for that too." The two exchanged a look, Mai who was mildly impressed and glowing for Ayako's selfless, therapeutic offer, and Ayako who was trying to retreat and pretend that she hadn't said something so nice.

Mai helped her save face by not saying anything. "I'll just make you some copies of the initial inquiry we made to validate it. Naru did it himself, so you know it will be thorough and probably even have some nasty little comments written in the side."

"Thank you. Speaking of the brat, is he in his office?" Ayako nodded her head sharply at the CEO's door.

Mai laughed and put an exasperated hand to her forehead. "Yes," she said. "And careful, he can hear you."

"Brat," Ayako called louder.

"Wrinkled old woman," came the muffled reply beyond the door. Ayako bristled and inhaled sharply, looking towards his office and seeming to seriously consider going into his office.

Mai shook her head. "It's nearly always locked. Don't waste your energy."

The copy machine whirred to life and vibrated under Mai's hand, signaling its readiness. It read and spat out all the copies in under thirty seconds. It even stapled them neatly, collated and all. Mai never ceased to be amazed by Naru's expensive technology.

Mai took both packets, the original and the copy, handing one to Ayako and replacing the other in its drawer.

"Quite a procedure people have to go through for Naru to even see them, eh?"

Mai slid a deceptively mocking gaze towards Naru's door. "He's… thorough—if nothing else," she drawled. They shared a similar withering look.

"If nothing else," Ayako agreed. She stood, smoothing the unwrinkled skirt. Both turned abruptly when the front door opened, revealing Yasuhara with two large packages in his arms.

"Ladies," he greeted. "Mai, the doorman handed me this one. Office materials?"

Mai jumped up and took the proffered package. She sagged under the weight before straightening to waddle towards the counter. "Must be, we ordered ton upon ton of paper reams."

Mai shook him off when he offered to carry it. She visibly bristled, swatting away his hands, and almost dropping the box. "My being female does not equate with being unable to carry a box." The hard thump of the box hitting the table as she practically dropped it rebuked her. Yasuhara and Ayako gave her incredulous looks.

"I haven't been to the gym in a couple weeks, so what," she challenged.

Ayako eyed her puny arms. "You go to the gym?"

"What do you do there?" Yasuhara asked curiously.

"I prefer the punching bag," she deadpanned, annoyed and mock-punching the air. "And their kick-boxing class is great. Admittedly, I'm a little uncoordinated, but I'm in intermediate now," she said sheepishly.

"Impressive," was all he said. He gave her a newly appreciative look with his back to Ayako, so that she couldn't see. Unused to the behavior being aimed her way, heat unwillingly crept up her neck and she looked away, feigning ignorance. Yasuhara blatantly flirting was enough to throw her off-balance.

"Hardly," Ayako scoffed, who was busy fingering through the files. "What you need is a class in protection from yourself. _Self_, self-protection," she said evenly. Mai recovered and laughed softly to herself, glancing downward. It wasn't that inaccurate, after all.

Yasuhara rapped his knuckles lightly and distractedly against Naru's glass door. It opened as he made to knock again, startling him to smile. "Come in, Yasuhara-san."

He did so, pushing the door open with his shoulder, so that he could slip in and balance the box in his other arm.

Mai heard Naru say, "Thank you for bringing this in—" before the door settled shut and closed them off to sound.

Ayako's relaxed, leaned stance against the counter belied her real intent. Everything in her body language read keen comprehension held a knowing look about her.

"What was _that_?" Ayako asked devilishly. She looked delighted, twining her fingers about in an interested manner and flattening her lips as she bit her cheek. "Don't bother hiding it. You know what I mean. Yasuhara didn't just smile at you. He looked at you like you were something to eat, hm." Mai's frown creased her eyebrows. "I could see it. What an office scandal, though not quite as good as all those secretary-boss novels," she murmured. Mai's protest died in her throat as her mouth suddenly went dry at the thought.

Flustered, she raised her hands defensively. "You're reading too much into things again, Ayako," Mai groused. "And quiet down, they can hear you in the next room. I'd hate to have a rumor started because of your overactive imaginings. He's helping me study lately. I'm stressed out over midterms. All you're seeing is my being appreciative of that."

Ayako lowered her voice, speaking like they were children out of bed and their parents were in the next room. "I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about Yasuhara watching you like you're covered in gold. And here I thought he was bisexual and primarily rooting for the other team, if you know what I mean. With all the times he's hit on our Bou-san…"

"_Ayako_," Mai admonished.

Ayako's smile widened into a canary grin. "Do what you'd like, only be careful. Our kind-" Mai knew she meant psychics. "-don't mesh well with the normal."

It sounded like drivel to Mai. She tilted her head accusingly. "And what do you mean by that?"

Ayako smiled coyly. "Ask Masako about it sometime. She'll _enlighten_ you."

"And why won't you tell me?" Mai interrupted.

"I don't have personal experience," she said, shaking her head. "My argument wouldn't be as convincing. Trust me, though. Ask Masako."

Mai meant to push her into revealing more, but Naru appeared, holding his door open for Yasuhara to pass through.

Yasuhara was empty-handed now, having delivered the packages. He was putting his gloves on when he nodded briefly to Ayako, and she gave him a salacious smirk. Mai wanted to smack her for it. Yasuhara didn't know what to make of it, so he ignored it and wrapped his scarf closer around his neck and walked to the door, stopping to turn to Mai.

"Coffee shop this weekend. Say Sunday, two o'clock?" Mai saw Ayako in the corner of her eye practically glowing.

Naru answered for her. "We're about to leave for a case. We'll keep you updated if we'll be back in time. Mai, get your coat. We'll run by your house to grab your overnight things."

Mai looked from Naru to Yasuhara. "He accepted the case you researched?"

"Surprised?"

"I am," she said, dumbfounded. This would be their first case in two months.

"Call me just that good," he replied with a self-confident air.

Ayako laughed raucously. "What were you doing in his office? Convincing him?" The miko's smile turned lascivious. Mai knew where she was going with this, referring, of course to his in-question sexuality.

"Actually, yes." Ayako tried to smother her laughter and then gestured vaguely at Mai to get her attention.

"See? Poor, Bou-san. He'll be devastated that Yasuhara only has eyes for his president," she said thoughtfully, putting a neatly manicured finger to her lower lip. Mai gave Ayako a withering look which only made the older woman laugh harder.

"I'll be taking my leave now," the miko said between laughs. "As you haven't asked me to join you, I assume you won't be needing me."

"You'd be correct," Naru said stiffly.

"Bye, then. Remember what I said, Mai. Talk to Masako. Ciao," Ayako said it like it was a secret and not like there were two other men in the room that could hear her. Or that the two men wouldn't question her about it after the miko left when she had said it so suggestively.

On cue, both men gave her a curious look, but Mai only shrugged, opting to dodge this particular questioning for easier topics.

Naru didn't look as appeased, but nodded to the other man. "Yasuhara," he said dismissively. It was his way of farewell, his nice 'get out.'

"I see. I'll be at the shop on Sunday regardless, Taniyama-san. Have a safe hunt." He looked at Naru, nodded and made a quick exit.

Mai waited until the door fully closed to swivel on her employer. "You're taking the case?" she asked incredulously.

Naru tilted his head down at her as if to mock the gall of her questioning him. "I think I said that recently."

Mai briefly had tunnel vision as Naru walked to the coat rack to grab his jacket and swung it around his shoulders as he slipped into it. Even the way he moved was enticing, slow and measured, like he was making sure every movement was perfect and oh-so-practiced. The entirety of him was unmatched, and almost assuredly unnatural.

_Said the pot to the kettle,_ she thought. _We're both outcasts to the regular world, he's just classier and on a whole 'nother level._

"Mai," he repeated, spurring her into action. "Your jacket." He tossed it at her while she shook herself out of fascination.

"Where are we going this time?" His most prominent, cold smile parted his mouth. The very edge of his eyes wrinkled in near amusement.

"Worried I'll disappear with you?"

Mai gave him a sour look knowing it wasn't him flirting. Bou-san would have accused him of flirting, but Mai knew better.

She shook her head. "Like I have anyone to tell anyway if I disappeared. I'm curious, obviously," she said flatly.

"Guess you'll just have to trust me." He clicked the light off and locked the door behind them. In the hallway, Mai waited in silence.

He fidgeted with the lock and key, one of the rare signs of incompetence she rarely saw with him. Of course, he would say incompetence, she would say a jammed lock.

"Coffee and Yasuhara." he said disinterestedly, finally pulling the key free. A question formed as a statement. A question would actually infer interest and they both know he didn't care for more than the surface issue. Yet here he was asking anyhow. _Such a guy_, unable to ask outright what he wanted.

"Studying. He's tutoring me," she said shortly.

He paused, glancing down at her before he nodded approvingly. "He's a good choice."

Mai paused, her mouth falling open. "Was that a compliment?"

Silence. He started walking ahead.

"But I would have been a better choice."

Mai didn't respond, but a familiar throbbing began to build in the back of her skull. That same old irritancy that cropped up whenever Naru started in with his self-assured babble and his frustrating confidence. Mai swept her hair out, running her fingers through it to break up the clumps that the budding oil had formed in her hair.

Naru's gaze slid to her and then to the van, briefly watching her behavior like he was recording it for research. Like she was some sort of test subject.

It didn't really surprise Mai. She knew the way that Naru looked at the world—distant and calculated—separating himself as to get a more unbiased and accurate view. A small part of her wished for the same kind of indifference, a way to separate head from heart, yet somehow she couldn't split the hardwiring. It would simplify the harder cases, it would ease the pain and fear she felt when those horrifying nightmares overtook her and threatened to crush her when she was barely holding on that last thread of sanity, the last inkling of hope that Gene would end her misery. It would even subdue—maybe even erase—the way she sometimes felt when she looked at Naru, like her ribcage was squeezing the life out of her, like her hands were on fire, dying to touch his hair and tell him to trim that foppish cut.

The feelings were painful, but there was familiarity in the constant being that was Naru. He never changed, rarely faltered. The same couldn't be said of Mai. She was a creature of constant motion, shaping to the events around her. Only her wide-eyed idealism was the same. So maybe they both shared that in common. They were both constantly stubborn. But again, the consistency was comfortable. It made Mai feel a tender warmth in her chest, only for it to immediately shift into shame—day after day of caring for such a..a jerk. One of these days she would put herself first. The thing that all those break-up/love songs were about. Loving yourself enough not to cause yourself constant misery.

Maybe not feeling wasn't the answer. Somehow she knew the answer could never be that simple, otherwise, wouldn't it be easier to just leave him and let the feelings wither that way? That way she wouldn't be tempted by the curve of his mouth, the drab, depressing color of his wardrobe, or the way he compulsively smoothed his fingers over his lapels, lest his collar rise up. Mai had convinced herself that this was the puppy love that Michiru's older sister had told them about. She had described it as that live-with-or-without, life or death feeling, the constant craving of approval (in Mai's case disapproval) and the compelling need for their companionship. Mai could tick all three of these off on her list, but she didn't consider herself nearly as desperate as in the way Michiru's sister had described the classifications.

Michiru's sister had also said that as you get older, it would get easier to let go. With adulthood rapidly closing in on her, Mai wanted to argue with that one. She was an idealist, first and foremost, even with all the tragedy that had occurred in her life. First, one parent had exited her life, and then more recently, her mother had followed. Those tragedies had taught her to cherish the relationships she had while they lasted, and she was sure that once Naru decided to leave for good, she would be disappointed, maybe worse, but she would cope. She would definitely survive. As she'd grown older, she'd been forced to learn how to deal with loss.

And loss was something Mai was good at. She'd handled the loss of her parents. She would _survive_ the loss of Naru as well.

Then again, as she'd grown up, she'd also learned how to be a good liar.

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Next Chapter: Three Years of Rejection

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AN: I'm currently working on History of War (No worries, all you PMers), and another side project (Toshokan Sensou [aka Library War]—I'm in love!)

But sadly, I'm also falling in love with all the characters of Ghost Hunt again—particularly Naru (who I've always liked, but always thought of as kind of a jerk off—and now he's evolving into something more lovable—it's a difficult dichotomy to write about), Yasuhara (he's so conniving) and particularly Ayako. I don't know why I've taken such a fancy to her, but that woman (who is also a doctor in her "spare" time 3) is undeniable love. I hope you enjoy these character interactions as much as I did writing them.

Whereas I'm a lot more serious about History of War as fanfic—writing Tutor has been my guilty pleasure— and a healthy distraction from taking the aforementioned fic too seriously.

Hope you all are enjoying.


	3. Courting Normality

**Tutor**

_Chapter 3: Dating Normality _

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5.11.10

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AN: I meant to update History of War this weekend, but sadly left the files at work, and thus couldn't work on them until today. But Tutor had less editing to be done, so it ended up being updated. History of War will be updated soon, but I really don't want to just pump out a chapter that I consider crappy just because I haven't updated in a while (is a month too long?). Anyway, never fear. Enjoy this chap of Tutor....which I have no idea how it will end, btw. For you PMers and reviewers who are so certain you know what's going to happen....muahahaha....

* * *

_"And yes, while Naru is probably, and __irritatingly_, correct, that man is too smart for his own good. He needs to fall down a couple flights of stairs to kill all of those overpopulated brain cells he possesses."  


_

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_

The park seemed like a natural setting for a talk of this nature.

Friends and family picnicking, palpably sweet couples lounging in the distance under umbrellas feeding each other just as sickeningly sweet fruit – depressing rants about why people who resided in the tangible world of reality didn't mix with oft-hidden, and slightly off-kilter people of the supernatural world.

After all, who could say that they believed in the paranormal (and actually witnessed it on a recurring basis), but lived in a world where it such occurrences were obtusely ignored as certainly as the redheaded stepchild kept under the stairs.

An irritated tick at the corner of Masako's mouth hinted at the medium's normally well-disguised annoyance. Where there was no one to impress, Masako didn't feel the need to muster up the same care and precision she usually put on for the mass of ignorant people that surrounded her life like an unneeded apoplexy.

The rain that had hung over Tokyo for the past couple of weeks had finally moved on, but had left behind a sheen of thick humidity that settled on Mai's tongue like molasses, thick, tangy and desperately made her want to brush her teeth to rid herself of the fuzzy feeling.

Under the heat of the midday, Mai wiped a trailing bead of sweat off her forehead in a lazy arcing motion and flopped backwards onto the grass, grumbling unpleasantly about the natural order of the sun rising after the moon. Beside her, Masako sat on the ground, feet tucked carefully underneath, settled ever so neatly on top of a blue and red-checkered blanket. The only lack of decorum she permitted were the kicked-off slippers – and even then they had been carefully set upright and even, a quaint pair; whereas Mai had inadvertently lost track of hers when she had tussled around to get her jacket off lest she suffocate under the unexpected heat wave.

The park was busy which wasn't exactly conducive for having the kind of conversation Mai wanted to have with Masako. Talking personal relationships with several other people: kids, parents, couples, teenagers, etc., within hearing range of her embarrassment twisted her stomach into a nervous ball.

Giving up on any pretense, the medium slanted her eyes at her friend, and briskly said, "It's not like you to hedge around things so obviously. Come out and say it – what exactly do you want from me?" She flipped a stray piece of hair back in line. "I'm busy, you know. I can't exactly be making social calls whenever I want—not all of us have endless hours of free time to pursue our bosses for illicit office romances."

Her tone was cold, but in terms of Masako, it was barely a light jab of an insult instead of the normal gut-winding ones lined with venomous, yet well-disguised invectives. The modest barb let Mai know Masako didn't want her to think they were sinking into a friendly familiarity. They always liked to keep each other on their respective metaphorical toes, unwilling to let the other believe they had what passed for a masquerade for friendship. Masako had a professional image to upkeep and that meant stressing her inaccessibility—yet, here she was. Their illusion of animosity was shattered under the evidence that Masako had immediately (although reticently) agreed to meet her here when Mai had told her she needed the medium's opinion on something. That, alone, had piqued Masako's inherent nosiness, mutating it from the flickering, candle-like curiosity it normally was into an oxygen-fueled firestorm hungry to consume any piece of gossip carelessly tossed her way. Or maybe since Mai had asked _her _for help, it might have played to the medium's high-and-mighty sensibilities—_or maybe _she was simply a better friend than she let on or wanted anyone to know.

Masako liked her life. Simple, organized, impersonal and balanced. The center of her world being securely _her._ No room for other distractions. No room for competition. Which was another reason she hated how someone as narcissistic as Naru held an interest for her. And it was also why she despised his own interest (whether he was willing to entertain the idea or not) in his boring, inept and _brutally __**normal**_ assistant, who just so happened to have an aptitude for trouble and inspired all others to fall under her thumb like insolent children begging for their parents' favor if given enough time.

_And it happened to everyone. _Mai sucked them under like the natural undertow of waves.

She incessantly complained—about _everything_—_except_ the things that really mattered. Mai played a trivial game with reality. The girl really had a twisted perception of reality if she couldn't even prioritize her grievances correctly.

She _hated_ setting up cameras.

She _despised_ checking temperatures.

Homework was _abominable._

Rejecting boys was hurtful to her and _stressful._

The short walk to the subway from school was full of thugs and _tiring._

Masako could list off every complaint the girl had ever made. (After all, Masako was filing them away for later use as a way to degrade her_.)_

Yet the girl never once dug for sympathy when it came to her deceased parents. Or the fact that she supported herself without much income and every morning woke up to an empty home with no family to speak up. No family and Masako had never so much as heard a peep from the girl – ever. It was inspiring… and _odd. _But that wasn't saying much considering that it was Mai – the psychic wonder who couldn't decide if she wanted to be classified as a medium, or an astral traveler or whatever mixed-breed mongrel psychic she was these days. They'd most likely have to coin a new term for her. Masako hope it was something ugly. Something that didn't roll off the tongue well if it hadn't to be tacked onto the end of name as a title. Like Chimera.

Yeah, Masako liked that. Taniyama Mai, _Chimera_. It had a terrible ring to it, and Masako would happily gloat in the smaller battles won.

Mai didn't have a family to speak of, outside of S.P.R. and what a boast-worthy family _that_ was… Masako leaned heavy on the sarcasm in that thought.

At the very _least_, she had her manager, and a personal assistant running around for her, and hounding her at every hour of the day. Despite her annoyance with them at their constant bombarding of her, it at least meant that someone cared. At least, _someone _was there.

The latent psychic complained about the little things so that others wouldn't think to ask about the more important things. Distraction, plain and simple. Waving the red flag at the bull. _Ole._

So here Masako was on a blustering Saturday, just as _Mai had wanted_ (_so Mai, of course, got)_.

Grinning, Mai ran a finger over her chapped lips and fished for her chapstick. She was giving the medium a moment to vent her frustrations. She wasn't going to be the one to spoil Masako's game or her pretenses. Her heavily crafted image was a delicate – and dangerous – thing to mess with.

The scent of sun-warmed grass tickled her nostrils and Mai remembered that she had forgotten to take her allergy medicine. Great. She had a half-hour at most before she starting sneezing incessantly and became a sniffling, dripping ball of overactive mucus glands.

Glad to have an excuse to leave should the conversation turn ugly, Mai bolstered her resolve and set about the task of asking Hara Masako about the art of dating…normal people. The thought turned sour on her tongue before she could even begin to form a sentence. Asking Masako for help (_of all people, _Mai griped in her head) as something that didn't sit well with her. She was indebting herself to a professional blackmailer. It was an unwise move at the best of times.

A leaf spiraled a path in the air to fall onto Masako's lap. The medium hastily yet _demurely_ brushed it off. Fixing her gaze on Mai, she huffed. "As I have no _inkling _what sort of idea crawled into that drafty mind of yours, I'm unable to even _begin _to dredge this conversation to a plausible point where you can then interject what you actually want to say without seeming over-imposing. One last chance, and if you're asking me to give up Naru—"

The mechanics of controlling her mouth seemed to slip Mai's mind. "What's the problem with dating normal people?" Mai blurted, sucking in a deep breath.

"Nothing," Masako responded.

Mai ran a dapper hand over the blanket. "That's not what Ayako told me you said."

Masako's lips tugged downward. "I hope this isn't a game of hearsay. If you're asking me to go about dating normal people just so you can sink your harlot claws further into Naru in my absence, you can think again—"

"_Harlot?"_ Mai wheezed.

Masako glared, continuing. "—I'm not the type to be so easily distracted, Taniyama-san."

Mai shook her head, pushing off the ground to sit closer to Masako. The hot air around them felt dense, weighing heavier on the feeling of the viscous layer of humidity that clung to the back of her throat. Light filtered through the leaves, weaving abstract patterns of interwoven shadow and light across their laps.

It gave her something to look at while she searched her thinly-tied together thoughts for something to say, instead of a cesspool of poorly worded vitriol.

The skin between Mai's eyebrows puckered with her frown. "I meant for me. _I_ want to date normal people. Well, more specifically _one_ person," she said carefully, wringing her hands until they were red-spotted on her knuckles.

Masako's mouth parted slightly, her eyes wary and narrowed as she considered everything, unsure if Mai was serious about the matter or not. Her jaw snapped shut just as quickly, back straightening as she sat up properly and a terse look settled over her face.

"I see. So Ayako told you," Masako confirmed simply with a hint of malice embedded in the few words.

Mai nodded her head. "Only because she noticed that I'm interested in dating someone – someone different."

"They're _normal. _We're _different,_" Masako clarified.

Mai nodded again, approvingly.

Masako looked away, seemingly watching the kids toss a Frisbee absently as she mulled some unknown thought over in her head. Expression unreadable, Masako turned back to Mai. A weight had settled somewhere at the center of Mai's chest and she recognized the flood of feelings as worry and nervousness.

Masako eyed her, scrutinizing her possible motives.

"You're giving up on Naru—"

Mai growled. "_It isn't about_ _him—"_

"It's always about him," Masako eyes narrowed. _"_—but I'll play your game. Even if it's all semantics. Pray tell, Mai, _who _is it about?"

Mai shrank, drawing back from her forthright coworker. "You don't know him," she said sheepishly.

Masako's mouth pursed into a thin line. "Then you don't know your coworkers very well. The monk and miko do not have steel-trap minds nor mouths. Secrets spill out like of their heads like an overheated teakettle. They just can't wait to get out. Why do you think the two of them partnered this weekend and didn't actually tear each other apart? Not _once. Not a peep._ They obviously shared a common goal, _or at least, a certain gossip._"

Until then, Mai hadn't considered the possibility that Ayako had spilled the beans.

Or maybe she was more obvious and oblivious than she knew, or previously considered. Both weren't too much of a stretch.

Yasuhara had been absent from the case all weekend (Naru had said he wasn't needed, but had strangely called Ayako after saying the same to her only days earlier), but when Mai had stepped outside to call him (to tell him she wouldn't be making their café study session), Takigawa had been suspiciously inspecting the perimeter of the house for no seeming reason…picking flowers no less.

She sighed, defeated. "So you know about Yasuhara then," she said incredulously, hands turning over in a sympathetic gesture.

Masako's lips curled into a cat smile. "No… I didn't, but I do now," she said cheerfully. Her mood improved infinitely after that.

Gaping, Mai fought for words, her fists curling at her sides.

Masako put a delicate hand in front of her mouth as per normal and smiled prettily. Her eyebrow rose suggestively. "You, like your beloved guardians, also do not have the sharpest mind." Her smile infuriated Mai as an itch started burning in her hands – the distinct urge to strangle Masako.

Masako gave the barest of shrugs. Shaking her head, she explained, "—and your secret isn't much of a _secret_—more like an unfulfilled rumor. It just has yet to happen…or it hasn't happened as far as I'm aware of," she hinted like she wanted Mai to share a little more of the intimate details with her. None of which Mai had, but not wanting to give the medium the upper hand, she shrugged as if unwilling to share.

"You could have just played along a little while longer and I'm sure I would have told you," Mai said snidely.

Masako tilted her head, humoring her. "I could have, but I'm against abusing people who aren't up to my level of intelligence." The medium's mouth curled into another smile, breaking her steely façade. Mai snorted at the frivolous insult.

The atmosphere had shifted inexplicably. Mai felt strangely at ease and she could tell in the set of Masako's shoulders, arched back, but not tense, that she too was feeling much the same way. Comfortable, congenial. Immediately, the reason behind it became obvious. She and Masako had attempted civility: no fighting, no arguing, no nasty insults, only 'how's the weather been' kind of conversation; and all of it had failed miserably. Which had followed by the awkward silence of Mai trying to figure out how to broach the subject. The concept of civility and niceties was foreign between them. No wonder they'd both been so on edge. Being snippy and snide fit the two of them far more comfortably.

Settling back, Mai reached for some of the fruit she had brought with her, knowing she wouldn't be able to eat until a lot later that evening. Studying and stopping by work for a little overtime preempted food cravings this week.

Mai slid her eyes discreetly over to Masako. "So…Ayako said that you've dated…normal people before."

Masako rubbed the edge of her nose like she had a tickle. "Dated is a quaint term. It doesn't suit the kind of relationship I had with him."

"Who?" Mai asked curiously

Masako paused, considering. "A friend of my father's."

Mai balked. "Oh my god! How old was he?" She grimaced at the image of a wrinkled, hunched-over man fighting with a cane as he struggled to walk. _Okay_, it was a bit of an exaggeration, but Mai's mind, once given free reign, pushed her imagination to the limits of all sorts of outlandish possibilities. Mai put a hand over her mouth trying to hide the reaction mimicking the medium a little _too _well. "I didn't know you were into _that."_

"And what exactly is _that?" _Masako snapped. Scoffing, she shook her head. "He worked for my father! He wasn't that old. Only 24. That's far from ancient. At least, I haven't had the gall to attempt shacking up with an underage ghost," she said, scowling.

Mai's back set of edge, but steeling herself, ignored the jab, vowing to remember it for later. "And how old were you?"

Masako look surprised she hadn't taken the bait, but answered, "Sixteen."

"_Sixteen!"_ Mai screeched.

Masako looked at Mai, exasperated. "It's not that uncommon. Stop looking at me like that. My father's the one who fixed us up," she said stiffly. She leaned back, making distance between them, looking affronted like Mai had insulted her. She looked into Mai's scandalized gaze. "It wasn't anything I didn't want. Besides, I've always been years ahead of my peers," she explained – feebly in Mai's opinion.

"It's not the age that bugs me!" Mai said hastily. "It's what you were doing at the time!"

Masako flushed, and narrowed her eyes. "We didn't do anything—but that was hardly the problem." She waved a hand as if that explained it.

Mai sat back, calmed a bit and turned away from Masako. "I was talking about how you were still doting off Naru," she turned back to her, and said, "_you two-timer._"

Masako blushed a deeper red. "I was doing nothing of the sort. Naru and I have always been entirely business-like—always professional with each other. _That's _the problem." Her voice lowered, sounding put out. "He's never carried any kind of interest in me outside of my use to him as a medium, and my father has wanted me married off for as long as I can remember." She paused, thinking about something hard. "He's starting to call me a Christmas cake," she said, offended.

Mai chuckled raucously. "You'd have to be at least…Ayako's age before you were called that." And Mai was incredibly thankful that the said miko wasn't here. She'd have smacked her upside the head for sure. "And it's a dated term, anyhow. My professor of cultural geography says that the smarter women get, the longer that generation on average waits to get married," Mai said expressly. "Though I'm not too sure if he was serious or he was just explaining away his mooch of a live-in daughter." She shrugged. "Either way, I think you're too smart to rush into something like that without giving it some serious thought. And I think we all have a lot more growing up to do. Twenty's not _that _old." Her eyes didn't hold the same sincerity, but her words were firm nonetheless.

Mai's simple yet passionate words reminded Masako of why everyone loved the girl so much. She was simply incorruptible and defended everyone from harmful feelings. She was their knight in shiny, yet oversized armor.

"Thank you." Masako's quiet voice was hard to hear with the sudden wind picking up. Masako brushed hair out of her face while Mai tied hers back. The air was a relief from the sweltering stick of humidity.

Remembering the real reason she was here, Mai shouldered Masako. "So what was the real problem? _Besides his age_," she said, smirking.

Masako's lips pursed as she tried to think of a way to carefully explain this so the sometimes thickheaded Mai wouldn't miss the point completely. "Have you tried…living…in both worlds? I mean really living in both. Not just the occasional ghost-hunting and escapade to a country-side manor with Naru that also could pass for a vacation. I'm talking about living with the constant buzz of spirits in your ear, and the pulse of reality under your thumb." Sighing, she shook her head. "Living in reality, it's not so easy. It's a balancing act not many can do."

"Ayako, Bou-san?" Mai suggested. "They have real jobs outside of S.P.R."

"Yes, _perfect example_." The medium's gaze snapped back to Mai's riveted one. "Look how normal those two are," she said a little scathingly.

Mai snorted, rolling her eyes. "They're so strange! Ayako juggles the long shifts of being a doctor and occasionally dabbles with being a miko. If she hadn't told us, I never would have guessed! And Bou-san dreams of being a rock star on the weekends when he can barely balance his checkbook." She laughed and bit her lip.

Masako stared at her meaningfully, and raised her eyebrows when Mai didn't seem to catch her point. The medium's teeth set on edge. "This is exactly what I was saying! Pay attention." Mai blinked, unsure of what she had missed exactly. _Had Masako really made a point – or was she just being her normal snippy self?_

"They are _different _from other people_,_" Masako said firmly. Her hands tightened in her lap. "Have you ever seen them with friends outside of work? Going out on a weeknight to see a movie? Of course you haven't – because they don't have _anyone else_."

"Th – that's not true," Mai tried to protest.

Masako refuted her harshly. "They are outcasts! There's no denying it. They teeter complacently on the edges of society because they, just like the rest of us, can't just _turn it off_. Ask them. They may feign indifference, but deep down they detest the fact that people deny the supernatural's existence. The fact that everyone denies _our _existence. We live in a world where people don't believe we're real. It's hurtful because my ESP is very much a part of who I am. _I am a medium_," she declared with as much ferocity as she had ever heard Masako use before. "It defines a part of who I am. Half the people that watch my show may be avid fan's, true believers, but I never forget that the other half are watching because they think my show is laughable. And what's worse is the few rare times that I actually commune with a true spirit on my show, the accidents—is that the ghost can see it too. He exists in the realm of spirits and shadows and no one _believes it. _There is _nothing _more humbling than witnessing _that._ Watching the indefensible dead suffer at the hands of that which was once their very own world._"_ Her tone was cutting. Mai felt warmth budding at the back of her eyes_. _"At least, I have the capability to speak with people. Spirits are locked in their own personal hell—alone. Forever." Masako, filled with more emotion than usual, swallowed roughly. "I think that's why Naru can identify with them so readily and it's also why I'll never understand why you always condemn his methods of trying to release the spirits."

Masako took a deep breath, flustered and riled up from her long-winded speech. "Others of us aren't so fortunate with the only the occasional vision, no matter how disturbing the nature of the vision is. And even then it only appears when you're bludgeoned over the head with the supernatural events when we go on cases. I'd venture to guess that if you were to quit being around all of us, your powers might become dormant again—and maybe you might actually live out a normal life." Masako took a sip of something from container—tea, maybe. "We can only hope."

Feeling guilty, Mai unclenched her hands from her jeans. Meekly, she said, "Naru says that's not the case. I mean, awhile back I asked him that same question after he had left those months after we found Gene. I told him how I hadn't dreamed peacefully during those months—like normal dreams even." She laughed nervously at sharing these personal events. "My sleep, while necessary when I was tired, weren't exactly…restful. He said my powers would eventually spiral out of control without an occasional outlet like the cases. Like that girl at my school." She shuddered at the thought.

"Like you'd be so narcissitic," Masako said frankly, though Mai doubted that she meant it as a compliment. "And yes, while Naru is probably, and _irritatingly_, correct, that man is too smart for his own good. He needs to fall down a couple flights of stairs to kill all of those overpopulated brain cells he possesses." Masako turned to the laughing Mai. "Don't tell him I said that…please," she added discreetly behind her raised hand and the material of her sleeve,

Mai smiled, silently agreeing. "But I have friends."

"Like I said. I think it's a shame that Ayako mentioned it to you. You aren't the same as the rest of us. You don't see ghosts haunting your step everywhere you go. It really doesn't apply to you," Masako said, jealously laden in her voice. "And besides you're…perky. You attract friends like sugar attracts flies." Mai didn't know if that was so much a compliment. "And your powers blossomed late, allowing you normalcy for the greater span of your life…others weren't so fortunate."

"Lucky," Mai snorted. "I can barely add a psychic two plus two together without Naru skinning me alive, but I'm _lucky _because I occasionally fall into people's dreams or out of _my own body."_

"You save lives –_ you saved mine!" _Masako hissed. She straightened, sitting back after she'd leaned forward to emphasize her point. "You are the closest thing Naru had to a connection between his brother and himself. How you didn't use that to your advantage to move in on Naru _baffles _me. What a perfect opportunity. Utterly incredible." The wrinkled discontent on Masako's face smoothed. "But I suppose that's part of your charm. You're just so…_good."_

Mai frowned. "You would have used that to get closer to Naru?"

"Without hesitation," Masako said just as quickly. The thought settled ill with Mai. She couldn't stomach the thought of using such a gesture just to get closer to Naru. Undoubtedly, it might have worked, but Mai imagined that Naru would have resented her all the more because of the communication only she possessed with his deceased twin. Mai assumed, without fail, the plan would have backfired, and was glad the thought had never occurred to her before.

Mai half-smiled. "So I guess you're glad I'm going after Yasuhara."

Masako scowled. "Actually, I'm a little…confused. Yasuhara's a…strange choice. A good choice, but strange." She fought for the right words to ease the normally caustic ones that would have come out.

"Besides had it been me dreaming of Gene, instead of you, it wouldn't have mattered," Masako whispered forlornly.

"What didn't matter?" Mai, asked confused.

Masako's cold demeanor reemerged. "If you don't get it, then I'm not going to explain it," she snapped.

"Okay!" Mai held her hands up defensively. "So are you going to tell me what happened between you and this guy that didn't work out, or what?"

Masako eyed her coldly. "And I thought telling you that you'd get off scot-free in dating normal people would be enough to appease you. I just told you that with the way you're powers are that it wouldn't matter. As for what happened between him and me – that is none of your business."

Some things, Mai felt even she didn't have the courage to ask. And from Masako's tone, it didn't sound like she would get very much out of her anyway.

Masako brushed her hair back in frustration and Mai caught sight of the small bandage on the medium's forehead that covered a lump.

Mai gestured to the bandage. "I'm sorry about that."

Masako gave a rare smile and quickly let her hair fall back over her wound. "I'm rather surprised that I was the one to incur an injury this time." Masako slid her eyes over to Mai. "Normally, you take the brunt of the physical brutality and I guess I expected as much this time. I was complacent. In some way, I admit, you are indeed a crucial part of the team..." Mai glowed at the compliment, "…in that you draw attention of ghosts to keep the rest of us safe." Mai's approvingly look before quickly turned reproving. "I've never taken the opportunity, so before I forget to do so—Thank you, Taniyama-san for being such a valuable part of our team." The amusement in her eyes was hard to miss.

"For distracting the ghosts and getting hurt," Mai said sourly.

Masako smiled again. "For distracting the ghosts and making sure no one else gets hurt."

Mai scratched the back of her head. "Knowing that I didn't get hurt this time, I'm…"

"Disappointed? Shocked?" Masako supplied.

Mai frowned. "…I was going to say _happy…_"

* * *

Next Chapter: Three Years of Rejection

(Which had been pushed back due to Masako insisting she get some airtime.)


End file.
